I sit in the courtroom, between a man who smells faintly of urine and the man who I am here to defend before the City of Raleigh. Way back in December of last year, he dared to bow his head in despair on a park bench that belongs to the people of Raleigh, thus bringing down the full wrath and judgment of the City of Oaks. He is now facing a possible fine of $100 (which he does not have) plus court costs of $120 (which he also does not have). Should he not pay these, he is faced with three days as a guest of the same City that said he cannot rest on a park bench.
We got here at 8:30, waiting in line until the courtroom was opened at 9am. We filed in, with stern admonitions being delivered about cell phone use, proper attire for facing the Judge and how to answer when they call our name. They file down the list of names, the new assistant District Attorney butchering Hispanic, French and, amazingly, some very Anglo sounding names. She calls my man’s name.
“Open, ” he replies, meaning he wants to speak to the DA.
The business of the court proceeds at a snail’s pace. Those admitting to having wronged the city of Raleigh have sentences meted out – community service, 60 days jail time, un-supervised probation. Meanwhile, my man’s name goes unheard.
We now (about 10:30) get to those who plead not guilty. Those with attorneys get swift service as winks and nods are exchanged between Judge and attorney – those with no representation get their say, but no laughter is heard, no jokes are passed. The fear is evident on their faces. Some are vindicated, others pay fines; one goes to jail for 60 days.
My man is impatient. He gave up working at the Day Labor place so he could come to court. Twice since we have arrived I have had to convince him to stay put. He wants to go outside, smoke a cigarette, try to find some work – pretty much anything than sit on the back pew, awaiting his day in court in an overheated room on the fifth floor of a downtown court house. He is concerned that it is now 11:15, they have not called his name and the Soup Kitchen closes at Noon and he has not eaten today.
I pull the bailiff aside and ask him if he could check on my man’s case. He gets the Assistant DA, who asks me what I want. I explain the situation, he tells me to sit down while he goes to check on it.
It is now 11:30. I am told yet again by my man what time the Soup Kitchen closes.
At 11:40, they call my man’s name and we go up together. I am nervous, knowing that my words will determine if he goes free or if he spends three days in jail. He shuffles, hat in hand. The DA tells us the case is dismissed and he is free to go – apparently the officer who wrote the ticket did not show.
We run down the stairs, burst out the door and sprint two blocks, hoping to make the soup kitchen before it closes. We are the last ones in before they shut the door at 11:55.
I met R____ about five months ago. He is Hispanic, but while in prison last decade became a member of the Nation of Islam. He wanted nothing to do with me or “my Jesus”. In fact, he often set out to undermine me, telling the other homeless that I was a conman or a hustler. It is my nature to justify myself, but that whole turn the other cheek thing… Anyway, I made it a point to always be nice, to always try to talk to him, to learn as much as I could about him and his situation.
In November, I went back to Memphis for about 10 days to wrap up some business there and to celebrate Thanksgiving with the parents. When I came back, I was circulating among my contacts, re-establishing contact and finding out what had transpired in my absence. It turned out the someone had had an argument with R___ and spread rumors that he was selling crack (he was not). No one in his circle wanted to talk to him, no one wanted anything to do with him because of the rumors.
In my rounds, I saw him walking by himself down Fayetteville Street; he looked down and dejected and when I called out to him, he looked up at me with the saddest pair of dark eyes I have ever seen. I asked how things were going.
“Bad, man. Everyone has left me. Folks are telling lies about me. I didn’t do nothing.”
I told him that I had heard those rumors, and that they were pretty bad. Then I told him the best thing I could have ever said. “R____, I do not know what the truth is. But, any time you ever want to talk, I want to listen. I will be here for you, and any time you see me, I am happy to talk.”
His eyes lit up, and he smiled weakly. “Thanks,” he said. “I appreciate it.”
Over the next few weeks, I would see him at the soup kitchen, at the park, at the computer room at the library; all the usual homeless haunts, just like before. Now, however, he went out of his way to talk to me, to say hi, to wave across the room. Now I was in. We had occasional deep talks about everything from women to sports to religion to his daughter who is currently being kept by foster parents. It fascinated him that I was a follower of Jesus and did not hate Muslims. It shocked him that I knew the Five Pillars of Islam.
About a month ago, Renee went in the hospital for a heart problem she was having. I had planned to meet R____ and some others that afternoon, so I sent him a text, telling him Renee was in Wake Med and I would not be able to make it, and would he please tell everyone for me.
That night, there is a knock at the hospital door. It is R____, with a large grocery bag. He had went to all the homeless and told them “Hugh’s girl is in the hospital.” They took up a collection of sorts; bananas, small bags of chips, bologna sandwiches, candy bars and oranges filled the bag he brought us, all the remains of soup kitchen meals and bag lunches passed out in the park. Then he begged a dollar to catch the bus and brought it to us. His first questions after coming in the door were about Renee and how she was doing.
To say the least, we were overwhelmed. I thanked him for the stuff and the visit and he said the words that still bring tears to my eyes a month later as I write this. He said “Man, you are my brother. I love you guys. You are the only family I have here”.
I had not done that much, when you think about it. In January, his case worker told him he needed a phone number to get in touch with him, so some folks and I bought him a prepaid cell phone. Since prepaid minutes are expensive, I let him use my phone whenever he saw me to call home or to take care of business. He had no ID, so we took him to the Social Security Office and advocated for him with the folks there. When it came in, I took him to get his Photo ID; he was positively beaming, he was so proud that now he would be able to work and get off the streets. I let him use my computer so he could apply online at the local grocery store and wrote him a letter of reference for a job application. He did it all, we just made it easier.
Last Sunday was the first night R____ spent inside, in his own place, in over six months. It was the first time he could take a shower and not worry about time limits in six months. He did not have to wake up at 5:30 to be gone before Security ran him off and he was able to hang his clothes up on clothes hangers and put them in his closet.
Admittedly, things are not easy yet. He is waiting on his first paycheck, so he is living on Raman noodles and white rice. He is sleeping in a room that is the size of my first car. He hears gunshots every night as he goes to sleep on the hard floor because there is no money yet for a bed.
There is light for him at the end of the tunnel. He has a plan, a series of next steps to take. He is trying to reconcile what it means to him and his faith that he is Muslim, yet the folks helping him are followers of Jesus and not Muhammad. For the first time in over a year, he has hope and a future.
One last thing: The other day, someone I did not know asked R___ (supposedly out of my hearing) who I was and what I was doing out there. I could not help but smile when I heard him say “That’s Hugh. He loves us.”
I have been working on the website here, and I have to say, I am proud of it.
It is powered by WordPress, hosted by myself (Hugh), and is based on one of Brian Gardner’s themes I modded myself. It is entirely possible that you understood none of what I just said. If that is the case, do not worry, it is probably a sign of mental health.
In any event, the tweaks are ongoing, but once I get the front page straight, I will feel much better.
New are the contact link, up at the top there and an option (at the top of the left side column) to get notified by email when we post a new entry here. That way, you never miss a thing! Also, we now have a page with information on donating, in case you want to contribute to our ongoing work. Last but not least is a new resource page that will (eventually) have links to helpful articles, links to other organizations and so on. If you know something that you think should be included on the resource page, drop me a line in the comments.
Yes, it is true. The February edition of my humble newsletter has been sent to the subscribers.
If you are interested in what we are doing here, if you want to help support what we do or if you just want to know more about us and our crazy dream of loving homeless people, I hope you will sign up.
It comes out once a month, via email. We will never spam you, sell your name or ask you to join our sales organization .
I was explaining to a friend tonight that I think often we Christians miss the boat by limiting the mission of Jesus to “making sure we go to heaven when we die”.
I grow weary of everyone’s battles over Orthodoxy, so I have no desire to add fuel to that fire here, now. I wish Orthopraxy was as large a concern.
I do find it interesting that when Jesus announced his purpose at the beginning of his public ministry, it is not concerned with Heaven and Hell, but rather about helping a hurting people and a loving God.
The scroll of the prophet Isaiah was handed to him. Unrolling it, he found the place where it is written:
“The Spirit of the Lord is on me,
because he has anointed me
to preach good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners
and recovery of sight for the blind,
to release the oppressed,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”
Then he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant and sat down. The eyes of everyone in the synagogue were fastened on him, and he began by saying to them, “Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.” The Gospel According to Luke: Chapter 4
One thing (I just cannot resist): For those of you convinced you know what the Gospel is, read Luke 20:1.
I recently made a short video about my missionary work here in Raleigh (the video can be viewed here) and in it, I said Jesus is all about stretching my comfort zone. Never is that more apparent to me than right now.
If there is one thing I now know that I did not realize 6 months ago when I began this journey, it is that creatively loving the poor and homeless takes time and money.
Whether it is sitting in the Social Security office helping an immigrant get his papers straight or taking a 19 year old runaway to the bus station so he can go home or listening to a pregnant woman tell me why she refuses to leave her abusive boyfriend, it takes time. It takes money too. Bus Passes so people can go to work, long distance phone cards so people can call home and repair burnt bridges, simple birthday gifts (because dignity and fun are important in the kingdom of God), clothes for a job interview, bus tickets home, groceries for the lady who was sick and could not work last week or just fifteen dollars so an immigrant can get his ID straightened out, it adds up quickly.
I have wrestled with how to deal with this for months. First, I considered doing less. Maybe I should limit what I do to only a few individuals. Maybe I would only help the homeless on the weekend. Maybe I could… Nope. I am as certain as I have flesh upon my bones that God wants me to be out here, loving these people, helping them to be reconciled with their families, with their society, with their God.
Maybe if I worked more? The cold simple truth is that I cannot earn enough from my freelance work to support both myself and the mission work that I do. Well, maybe I could, but it would involve working so many hours I would have nothing left over for mission work. Besides, much of what needs to be done must take place during ‘office hours’, meaning any writing I am getting done is having to wait until late at night, or, more often, the wee hours of the morning.
No, the only way I can do what I have no doubt God has called me to do is with your help. In short, I am stepping way beyond my comfort zone in asking you to support a new ministry that will communicate the endless, life changing grace of God to the poor and destitute, first to those here in Raleigh, but I pray eventually far beyond that.
Of course, in a very real way I am asking you to support me as an urban missionary as well, to give me as much time as possible to creatively love the hurt, lost and broken people that surround me here in Raleigh.
Many of you know what I do out here and how passionate I am about this. For those of you who do not, I look forward to sharing more with you through these newsletters and when you come to visit us as well. In the meantime, I hope and pray that you believe in me enough to help.
I want to share with you a few things I am working on, so you will have a better idea of where your money is going. Here are just a few of the projects I want to implement with your help:
A Day Shelter, where the homeless can store their belongings, drink a cup of coffee, get out of the elements and meet with case workers, make phone calls, get their mail, wash their clothes and take showers.
A phone number we could advertise as a resource to the homeless community, where they could call and get information on government and private resources, such as Section 8, Public Housing, the location of the Soup Kitchen, the location of AA Meetings and so on.
A Speaker’s Bureau for local churches and other organizations who want someone to speak to their organization and educate them about the plight of the poor and homeless.
A Mentorship program, where we pair the homeless or merely poor with ‘mentors’ who are willing to help on a one on one basis. Under this program, we introduce a homeless person to a family or individual, who then takes an active interest in (or ‘adopts’, if you will) that one person.
A hospitality ministry to the day labor employees (often either desperately poor or homeless), where we take them coffee and a sausage and biscuit at 5:30am, giving us an opportunity to meet with, and build inroads into, the working poor communities.
There are many more; honestly, I could go on for pages. These are my more lofty goals; in reality, I will be spending most of my time just loving people that society has turned their back on.
I realize the list of projects above is oriented toward meeting physical needs. I questioned this approach often in the early days, but my friend (and fellow worker) Chad showed me how, by meeting physical needs, we can earn the right to be heard and thus gain inroads to build friendships, help them gain longterm stability and have meaningful spiritual conversations.
Practical Stuff:
Starting a nonprofit is an expensive proposition. There are legal things to be done, bank accounts to be opened, mailing addresses to be obtained, phone lines to get and so on. Our early estimates show something like $1500- $2000 needed to get this thing kicked off. After that, we will need people willing to contribute to our ongoing support, a figure that has yet to be determined, but will likely be in excess of $2000 monthly, but honestly, any amount you can contribute, either as a one time gift or a regular monthly contribution is greatly needed and appreciated.
If, after prayer and reflection, you feel like this is a ministry you can support, Thank You. At this ‘pre-start-up’ phase, our friends at Merge Community Church have agreed to accept donations on our behalf until we can get all the legal stuff straightened out.
If you want to send checks, money orders, cash or the like, please make it out to:
“Merge Community Church” & put “Love Wins” on the memo line. (It is deductible and we will get you a receipt and so on. ) Then mail it to:
Hugh Hollowell
Box 415
Raleigh, NC 27602
NOTE: This is a new address.
If you are an internet type, we can accept PayPal funds… just reply to this email and ask and I will give you the information on how to make that work.
I know I did not grace you with updates from current projects this month, tell you of my meeting with politicians or Rescue Mission officials, share with you all the cool new ministry partners I have met or told you about the many ways God is blessing the work we are doing here. However, I have done all that and more on my humble little weblog (or ‘blog, if you prefer), located at http://lovewinsalways.org/blog (yes, that is a new website).
I feel so very fortunate to be here and to be doing this work. Thank you for partnering with us to make it all possible. You are making a difference in the lives of some very cool, very loved and very poor, people.
I grew up in the Protestant tradition, but I have a great deal of respect for Catholicism.
In fact, the two largest influences on my thinking, at least so far as the work of loving the poor goes, are Catholics, namely Mother Theresa of Calcutta and Dorothy Day, founder of the Catholic Worker Movement. It was in reading Day’s Autobiography The Long Loneliness that I was first introduced to the concept of Works of Mercy.
The Catholic church has two lists of merciful works; Corporal works and Spiritual works, seven of each (I often think that had Moses been Catholic, we would have had seven commandments).
The corporal (or physical) works of mercy are:
* To feed the hungry;
* To give drink to the thirsty;
* To clothe the naked;
* To harbour the harbourless;
* To visit the sick;
* To ransom the captive;
* To bury the dead.
The spiritual works of mercy are:
* To instruct the ignorant;
* To counsel the doubtful;
* To admonish sinners;
* To bear wrongs patiently;
* To forgive offences willingly;
* To comfort the afflicted;
* To pray for the living and the dead.
It is sad, but after 20 years in protestant churches, the only one I was encouraged to do or saw anyone else do regularly was admonishing sinners.
There is no point in getting into an argument about this notion of loving. It is what Christianity is all about — take it or leave it. Christianity is not about ritual and moral living except insofar as these two express the love that causes both of them. We must at least pray for the grace to become love. - Brennan Manning, A Glimpse of Jesus
They have accepted me with open arms, put up with my drinking all the coffee and generally just made me feel at home. Thank you very much. I look forward to many years of future ministry together.
Lisa Creech Bledsoe, one of the pastors there, shot some impromptu video footage of me, did a mash-up with some music and snapshots and turned out something amazing.
In this short (3 minutes and change) video, I talk a bit about what I do, why and how I do it and end with my overriding philosophy.
Last week I visited the nice folks at Connections Church in Raleigh/Cary. (They are right on the border). They were very interested in the work I am doing and the future plans I am working on, and want to know ways they can help in the work.
If you have been trying to track me down and want to know more about the work I am doing, you can find me tomorrow at 10:30am (and probably each Sunday in February) at Connections.
Hope to see you there.
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